Finding the Balance
by StarlynNeoma
Summary: "Excuse me?" / Dionysus held up his hands, palms outwards. "No need to get offended, Apollo. I'm merely suggesting that falling for someone who is clearly of another Pantheon is not the best plan." APOLLOxOC
1. Courage

_**A/N: Hello there fanfiction! My, it's been a while since I last posted, hasn't it? Well, this is the start of a new story, surprise, surprise, which has stemmed from a competition I created with a friend of mine. Having both recreated out own little mix of words, we have the 100 Theme Challenge started all over again. Seen as I've started with Theme 99, I think it's going well!**_

_**Also, please be aware that I took a few liberties as this is fanfiction. I don't know which gods exist in the world, so I added Norse and just put in 'Oriental', which covers practically all of the Asian beliefs, I think. Well, not quite, but all of the older ones, at least. This chapter is also in the point of view of an ancient god, and his opinions are portrayed throughout. None of the references to religion are my own opinion (I go to a Catholic School, for crying out loud!) and some of the thoughts about the female character (who could really do with a name) are exaggerated. Obviously.**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING RELATED TO PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS, THE KANE CHRONICLES, OR HEROES OF OLYMPUS. I'M NOT MAKING ANY PROFIT FROM THESE STORIES.**_

**THEME NINETY-NINE:**

**Courage**

The first time he saw her it was the middle of summer. Pride Week was in full swing and the streets of New York were cluttered with people protesting for their rights. Banners and picket signs were hung in the air. Humorous, and even offensive, slogans attracted the attention of anyone with a camera. People were shouting and screaming, but the atmosphere was one of a festival – happiness laced with the thrill of adrenaline. People were running around, snapping shots on those portable cameras, or even just chatting away to people. Biblical protesters were being hounded by those in favour. The odd sign promoting a heterosexual who was in support of the movement would pop up, but most of the time they were just about the people involved.

Hades, Apollo loved mortals.

Now, he had to admit, he view was probably a bit warped by the fact he was bisexual himself. Honestly, it didn't take a genius to work it out. The thing with Hyacinth? Not as much of a 'made-up myth' as everyone thought it was. To this day he would shoot death looks at Zephyr. He had no right killing the sun god's lover, even if he was jealous.

But the blond wouldn't let himself fall into a fit of rage. Today was about celebrating the fact so many people to get together in support of their freedom to choose. Well, that and trying to find a date. Preferably one who could voice there opinion well. Other than that, he couldn't care less. Male or female would do him fine. He would have felt bad, but he wasn't the only one. Hermes would be wondering around somewhere, and chances were that Dionysus and a few others were in it for the partying and the atmosphere. He would have been with them, if it wasn't for the unmistakable urge to find a date.

And then he saw _her_.

Admittedly, she looked a bit nutty, but there was something about her. She stood on one of the low walls, hand holding onto a lamppost, merely letting her own weight keep her from falling painfully to the ground. Around her feet was a littering of signs, covered in the bright and bold slogans that you could see anywhere. There wasn't anything new, but hers were some of the most spectacular. He would have said she'd spent the whole night on them if it wasn't been for the pencil tucked behind her ear, and the fact that a clearly fresh-on pair of jeans were somehow covered in black marker pen and cracked paint. The side of her nose was smudged with ink, accenting her tanned skin. She was gorgeous. Two navy-blue eyes and messy, mousy blonde hair pulled back in a pony tail. Whoever she was, she held rival to Aphrodite herself.

But that wasn't what he found attractive. Something about her had this powerful glow that made his eyes widen, and his mouth fall open. There was something there that was giving her a buzz of magical energy. Was she a demigod? No, something else. He needed to find out what. It would drive him mad to know that he couldn't even try to ask her out.

Except she was in the Pride protest. Which made her very possibly a lesbian. If she was bi, he could handle it, but his luck never worked that way.

Except when his luck did work that way. She could be protesting for someone else.

No, no chance. Why would someone as pretty as her be bothered by something like this?

Hang on, pretty? Whoever her godly parent was, they were going to kill him.

Except her power wasn't that of any half-blood he'd ever seen. And trust me when I say he'd met plenty.

"My brother ended up on the streets because of you!" she snapped at a group of religious protestors stepped up to offer their services in 'relieving her soul of sin'. Honestly, he would have laughed, if it wasn't for the fact that Christianity was such a prominent religion. There was no need to bring other things into an already shocking argument about human rights. "If you really wanted to follow Leviticus, you wouldn't have cut your hair!"

At this point, Apollo had to grin. It was nice to see he wasn't the only one on the only one with the belief that some of the things mentioned in the Bible, were, well… a little bit nutty, actually. A bit like the girl had seemed when he first saw her. The only difference was she didn't seem so mental now. In fact, he would have been happy to go up and speak to her in front of everyone. He wouldn't have been so happy to go and read the Bible in front of everyone.

"You know, if you're thinking like that, maybe you should try reading a holy book. They're fascinating, if only for the clear insanity of some of the writers."

The sun god blinked, before spinning around. He'd half expected to see himself stuck with his younger brother, Hermes, but no; it was the wine god. How he'd gotten time away from Camp Half-Blood, the blond would have to find out, but somehow he always managed to get to Pride Week. Then again, he was considered to be the patron of transsexuals, along with Hermaphroditus, who Apollo always tried to stay as far away from as possible. He could manage the whole bisexual thing, and was happily as open-minded as every other Greek man when it came to sexuality, but something about the son of Hermes and Aphrodite was just a bit off.

"What do you want, Dionysus?"

The curly-haired man just shrugged slightly, looking off towards the blonde girl. "You've never been good with observation, Apollo."

He blinked. Was he really being berated by the god who was currently on probation for _chasing a tree nymph_?

"Excuse me?" he coughed slightly, not too sure why his technically-younger half-brother was doing.

Dionysus held up his hands, palms outwards. "No need to get offended, Apollo. I'm merely suggesting that falling for someone who is clearly of another Pantheon is not the best plan."

"Of another… what?"

"Can't you see it, Phoebus?" He winced slightly at the name. It only ever seemed to come up as an insult. "She's got the aura of someone powerful, but she isn't ours. Not a Greek. I doubt she's even Roman. If anything, she'll be Norse, or Egyptian – maybe even Oriental, if your lucky."

Apollo glanced back. He'd sensed it before, some power building and buzzing around her. While the sarcasm was unnecessary, Dionysus has a point. What he'd earlier mistaken as the buzzing power of a demigod… _Well, this is just my luck, _he thought to himself, sky blue eyes stuck on the accented girl as she continued with her protest. If he could just pinpoint where her power was coming from, maybe he would have a chance.

"Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to find Aphrodite," Dionysus sighed. "I'm sure she'd be thrilled to see how this plays out."

There was a fleeting moment of panic in his heart. He'd fought monsters, Titans, and things that were even worse, but the idea of having the love goddess following and manipulating him… it wasn't even worth considering. Apollo reached out a hand. "Wait!"

Dionysus turned to face him.

"I'll- I'll go and speak to her, shall I? See if- see if she'll tell me who she is."

There was no question asked about what the elder god was talking about. There was no need. After all, Aphrodite only had one use to the wine god.

He shrugged, a sly grin etched on his features. "Fine. Try your luck with the girl. But I'm still fetching Aphrodite – that internal argument of yours is much to amusing to miss."

"Internal argument?"

The smirk just stayed in place as Dionysus turned away, heading towards one of the back alleys. "I'm the god of madness, Phoebus. I know it when I see it."

Apollo just blinked, not sure what it was he was meant to be doing. When he turned back to the girl, he got the unmistakable urge to turn and run, like she was bad news. But there was also a spark; an electricity that made his veins feel like molten gold, and his body burn. And that was saying something, seen as he spent most days driving the sun.

So could he leave her?

No, not really. Not without finding out her name, at least.

But there was a flicker of doubt. If she was from another Pantheon, she'd recognise him immediately. And then… and then…

'_Then _what_?_'he asked himself, not entirely sure where his mind was going with this one, which was more than a little worrying. He was the god of prophesy, patron of the Oracle of Delphi – if he tried hard enough, he would be able to see the end of the world, for crying out loud – but he couldn't even figure out what was going on in his own mind.

Most people would call him arrogant for thinking like that, but is it arrogance if it's true? He didn't flaunt it – oh no, never flaunt it. The Sight was more of a curse than a blessing. He would rather die than make someone other than the Oracle to take it, but sometimes he couldn't stop the Fates. Sometimes his demigods were lucky; it wasn't as bad, but others… He'd seen his children loose their minds because of the curse his genetics brought on them.

In fact, sometimes he was pretty sure he could feel his own mind slipping away…

"Dionysus was right, you are arguing with yourself."

Apollo sighed, rubbing his hand against his temple. Were people just stalking him today, or something?

A hand reached out to grab his shoulder, but he shook it off. The last thing he needed was his younger brother – the con artist who was his greatest downfall – trying to comfort him.

"What do you want Her…" He trailed off. This was exactly the way the conversation started with Dionysus not long before, and not for the first time in his life, the odd feeling of déjà vu hit. "Is there something you want, brother?"

Hermes frowned slightly. Apollo knew why. Despite the fact he was probably the one Olympian (other than Artemis) that he considered his actual brother, he would never actually call him 'brother'. Only the older gods did that.

"You shouldn't be thinking like that. I might not be able to read your mind, but it was pretty obvious something was up."

"Excuse me?"

"Just go and ask her out, Ollie."

Apollo smirked. There were names they had to use to be mortal, and for some reason, he'd been given that one. Because Hermes had always called him that, he expected. The Fates weren't the only ones who had a sense of humour, apparently.

"Do you really think it's the simple?"

"No, not at all, but it has to be worth a try."

"Honestly, is that the best pep talk you could come up with?"

There was a moment of silence between the two, as the messenger god contemplated his answer.

"Yep."

Not for the first time that day (actually, it was closer to the third or forth time), Apollo sighed. Sometimes he had to wonder how there were so many demigods – none of his brothers seemed particularly good with women. He was probably the only one that had any idea what he was doing, if he did say so himself.

"Dionysus said I was driving myself insane."

Yep. Definitely knew what he was doing.

The younger of the two shrugged slightly, leaning against the brick wall behind him. "He also thinks spontaneous combustion isn't a form of harm. Personally, I wouldn't worry about it."

'_Hmm_,' Apollo shook his head slightly. '_Don't worry. 'Course not._'

"Dionysus also said that she was from another Pantheon."

Hermes glanced over to the girl, while the sun god tried to train his eyes elsewhere. Focussing for too long in one place wouldn't be helpful. Especially not on her, when it would be better if he kept himself from drawing attention to the fact he was interested. He was smooth and calm, flirtatious and straight-forward, blunt in his actions, but not rude or disrespectful. Even when it came to the crunch, he'd never show a women anything but complete respect.

"… You're not paying attention to a word I'm saying, are you?"

"No, not really," he admitted, rubbing the palm of his hand against he forehead. Man, he was beginning to feel repetitive.

"Are you sure you're all right, Apollo? You aren't… ill, or anything, are you?"

"I'm the god of medicine, Herms. I think I'd realise if I was ill."

The pixie features lit up. "You'd think, wouldn't you?" The other god paused a minute, before continuing, however. "Go for it, Oll."

He bit his lip. Was he ready to head over there are just ask her out? Normally, that wouldn't have been a problem, but when inter-Pantheon war was concerned…

"What, are you really going to follow the rule?"

No. No, he wasn't. There wasn't any reason for him to. Sure, his father had told him more than once to avoid getting into any kind of relationship with the other Pantheons, but there were some places were it was a little shady. The Norse gods were hardly as bad as the others, and the Oriental gods generally stayed out of the way of everything to do with Western Civilisation. Unlike the others, they'd chosen to stay in their home countries for the rest of their lives, and he could hardly blame them. So had the Norse. The only ones that had followed the Greeks were the Romans – too obvious, really – and the _Egyptians. _Now they had to be avoided.

'_But she isn't an Egyptian,_' something in the back of his mind told him, '_and even if she is, is it worth loosing a chance just because of your father, who broke his own oath about relationships?_'

Okay, now the talking voice had a point. Even if talking voices were a sign of everything going wrong.

"Erm… Apollo? Are you alright?"

Apollo just shook his head, blond hair swishing in front of his eyes slightly. Talking a few steps forward, he brushed it back, but as he turned to face the girl, he froze. Beside the blonde-haired beauty was a boy, dark haired and pale skinned. If it wasn't for his height, he would have assumed that it was Nico di Angelo, that annoyingly naïve son of Hades who just so happened to save all of their butts in the middle of the war. He had the same look of pure death that the death god and his son often wore. But that wasn't the problem.

She had a hand on his forearm, and his had it the same way, like a barrier forcing them away from him. The things that had been scattered behind her – the signs and marker pens – had disappeared, but her other hand was pressed against her stomach. Hunger, if it had anything to do with the way the two of them were laughing.

The boy – because he couldn't be classed as a man, no matter how old he was – said something, and the girl laughed, nodding. He grabbed her by the hand, pulling her towards one of the alleyways. No matter how many times in how many lifetimes you lost the chance, it still made a hollow feeling in the pit of your stomach. If Apollo has the choice, he probably would have followed, but another hand appeared on his shoulder.

Hermes sighed. "Apollo… I didn't think that would happen."

He didn't respond. He couldn't. She was gone, swept away by the wonderfully exotic boy, who she was happy to laugh with and leave with. He'd finally gotten up the courage to ask her, and she was gone.

It was insanity.


	2. Vacation

**Erm… don't kill me? I'm aware that this is a slightly sporadic update, and want to warn you that it'll probably stay that way. I started writing this chapter about two days after I posted the first one, and completed it… well, ten minutes ago. Which is pretty bad. Sadly, I have a life, and it's not one that makes sense when I think about it.**

**I just want to apologise for the really bad nature of this update. I received a review and a favourite message today in my email, and I felt like I should thank the people (all of the people) who have actually read this. Sadly, I haven't had a chance to read it over, and I don't have a beta reader. If there are any errors, please just tell me! I'll happily go back and change them!**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN. GOT IT?**

Apollo rolled over. Something… Something was bugging him. The girl from Pride Week. He hadn't slept in weeks because of her, but something told him it wasn't because he wanted her anymore. Something about him… It was more curious than head over heals.

_I will find her tomorrow,_ he promised himself, pulling himself off of the side of the bed. He might as well get up now, even if he had only slept about four hours. It was more than he had the last night, and even more than the night before that; at least there was little progress in his insomniac demeanour.

Outside was oddly warm, especially seen as the sun had yet to rise. He should know – he was the one who was meant to be pulling it. Running a hand through his hair, he became more and more aware of the fact he could very easily slip his consciousness and go back to bed. It wasn't often he slept, being a main god and all, but he would have been happy for the peace. It was his only practical break from the constant impatient search for answers. He finally understood how unclaimed demigods must feel every waking moment of their lives, and a rush of thanks swelled in his chest. The feeling of a never-ending wait was devastating; he'd never wish it on his worst enemy, never mind a helpless child.

If he didn't figure all of this out soon, he was going to drive himself insane.

"Oh, great," he muttered, standing to pull on a t-shirt. "Dionysus was right."

If she ever had to admit she hated anything, it would be the wisdom god's interest in the younger magicians. Thoth had been there, what, two days? And she already wanted rid of him. She was more than aware that others suffered from his endless curiosity, but that didn't provide much comfort. Ever since the magicians of Brooklyn House – all Blood of the Pharaohs in their own right – had been introduced to the gods at the end of the war, the ibis god had chosen to take one or two for a few days and spend some time getting to know their abilities and have them help on his experiments. It wouldn't have been too bad, except he'd taken a strong liking to the blonde haired girl, and now seemed to be rather insistent that she help him with most of his experiments.

"Now, Noemi, I hope you aren't finding those papers to be too much trouble," she heard Thoth laugh as he poured over the instructions in front of him. In his hand was a vial containing a few blobs of potassium. Normally, the British girl wouldn't have minded helping with deadly chemicals, but she could practically see this ending in disaster.

"No, of course not," she shook her head, turning back to the papers scattered around her desk. They had been up almost seven hours, however, and her head was pounding. One glance at the reports from First Nome and the words began to double over. "Erm… actually…"

Before she could finish her sentence, there was a loud _POP!_

Yep, she completely saw that coming.

"Ah," was all Noemi heard from the god before she burst out laughing. Exhaustion didn't do her well, and manic behaviour was too be expected.

"I told you, didn't I!" she managed say between giggles, noting the shocked look on the face of the supposed wisdom god. "The only reason I've never done the reaction is because it causes the container to explode!"

Thoth frowned, brows furrowed in annoyance. "Now, I would hardly call that 'exploding', Noemi -" if it wasn't for the fact his hands were full of pieces of glass, she was sure he would have placed air-quotes in all of the necessary places, as well as using the tone of voice she and some of the others had named 'don't-be-such-an-idiot-child' "- after all, there was very little shrapnel for an explosion, trust me. 'Rupture' would probably suit it better. _Trust me!_" he added with a slight edge of annoyance. The blonde girl decided it would probably be best to keep her mouth shut.

There was a slightly clatter, as Thoth moved to place what he could pick up of the glass beaker into the bin. The rest were small, unnecessary dangers that would probably only end in the magician cutting her hand open. He obviously didn't see that as a problem.

"Why don't you just use _hi-nehm_?"

"Because that would involve using unnecessary amounts of magic on something that is passed its time and done its job," the scruffy looking god noted, placing a piercing gaze on Noemi, which made her look away quickly. He did this sometimes. She wasn't sure what it was, but it was almost as though he was examining her soul. It wouldn't surprise her if he was. After all, there was an underlying evil to the god, even if he wouldn't show it, and a second meaning to his fascination with the surviving Blood of the Pharaohs.

Shuffling slightly to help wipe up whatever it was he had dropped, she muttered in a quiet voice "still no luck finding Ma'at, then?"

"No, none."

End of story. Nothing more. Always the same. He was just so stubborn, and it made her heart flutter with annoyance. Surely as wisdom god he couldn't be that closed minded. "But there has to be some kind of lead on why Ra hasn't brought her back!"

"Be quiet Noemi."

Oh no. That's not going to work.

"I don't think-"

"I'm warning you…"

"But-"

"I said be QUIET!"

She flinched. Thoth, while being the completely nuts, more than likely to start yelling kind of god, was the nicest one she'd ever met, excluding Anubis, who has someone been wrangled into the schemes of the wisdom god (and who, she had to admit, was only nice because he was so polite, and even that was out of duty). But here he was, looking ready to burn her alive, all because she had such hope in the idea of finding his wi… consort. Yep, his consort. Not his wife. Nope.

"I'm sorry…"

He sighed, pushing her away from clearing up. "Go and fetch that book of yours. Sit and read for a while. Just _be quiet_."

Raising slowly, she turned back to the place her bag had been dumped. Sitting in the top was the mythology book she'd owned ever since she'd found the recording. The only problem was, it didn't seem to have much in the ways of Egyptian mythology. It was mostly Roman and Greek. Still interesting, though. Now, where was that page on Niobe…

The story was a thrilling one. Apollo and Artemis willing to run off and kill the children of a queen to defend the honour of Lady Leto. It was the classic fairy tale with a twist of blood, guts and gore, ending in the tragic creation of a river from the tears of a mourning mother trapped in the rocks by the gods.

And, really, what more could you want?

Except… well, you know, reading about other gods when you recently found out that a whole bunch of mythologies exists in the modern world. It's was a little bit freaky, if Noemi was honest with herself. Which, most of the time, she wasn't.

"There's so little chance of survival when under the attack of a Greek god…" she muttered to herself, flicking a few pages back to find the name _Perseus_. "And so little chance of escape when one takes an opinion of you…" That had to be one of her favourite things about it being the Egyptian pantheon that was real. They refused to have children with mortals. They were people – Pharaohs, mostly – who called themselves a son of a certain god, but it would never be true.

There was a clatter from the other room as Noemi skimmed the third column of writing on the Greek hero. "Thoth?" she asked, not looking up from the words.

"Yes, child?"

"Are you alright?"

There was an odd sound, and the magician couldn't tell whether it was a laugh or a huff of annoyance. Other than that, however, she received no response. "I'll take that as a yes, shall I?"

Footsteps cut through her thoughts, just as she began to turn the page. She didn't need to look up to know that she was once again in the presence of the wisdom god. "It's time for you to be heading back to Brooklyn, I believe," he pointed out, not looking too impressed by the way she was acting.

Closing the book, Noemi kept her pointer finger between the correct pages, squeezing it shut with the rest of her hand. "I'm not going back to Brooklyn…" she said slowly, wondering why it was expected of her to do so. She did not live there, and only visited when she needed to check up on her friends who lived in the twenty-first nome. "I think I might go back to London for a bit; explore the capital before I head home…"

Instead of reacting in any way she expected, Thoth gave her a pointed look. "You cannot go back to England, Noemi. You know this."

The blonde rolled her eyes. "I don't care what the House says, Thoth. You know that."

"You have been stationed in Brooklyn-"

"But my home is England! They just don't get the feeling of displacement," she huffed, not enjoying the turn the conversation was taking. Did the idiot bird really want a conversation about politics?

In the middle of preparing her next argument, however, the wisdom god nodded. "Do as you wish. Just don't involve me in the decision."

With that he muttered something in Egyptian, and Noemi hit the concrete outside. _Hard_.

She blinked twice, glancing around. What the hell had Thoth put her out on the streets of Memphis? Was what she was doing really that bad? Well, yes, according to the current state of the House. But that was irrelevant.

"Well…" she began, standing up and stretching her legs, a stray hand brushing away the dirt, "at least now I get a vacation…"


End file.
